The singer had three replacements for the line her old partner had twice interrupted. Vivienne presented them with the displeasure of someone whose favourite was already beginning to misbehave. Leave the light beside the stair. Keep a place beside the fire. I can find the doorway blind. They belonged to approximately the same tune, although the third required some persuasion. That was the one Vivienne wanted. It let the singer arrive without depending on a lamp someone else might neglect to leave burning.
She could hear the grandeur she had given this arrival. The woman had only meant to ask about a song; Vivienne had equipped her to find an unlit doorway by sheer determination. Still, she asked Vera which ending she would keep. Asking gave the answer somewhere to land, even if Vivienne intended to argue with it. Their invented singer, the bottle and the troublesome bishop could wait while the women disagreed about what she ought to want.
Vera chose the stair. A light there served a practical purpose. The fire suggested a chair the singer might be expected to occupy indefinitely, and walking into furniture seemed an excessive demonstration of independence. Vera admired the woman without wishing to make her stumble. Before Vivienne could turn that preference into a personal invitation, she discouraged the interpretation. She had chosen something she could picture. Now she wanted to hear all three versions, particularly the one with an extra word forced into its luggage.
Vivienne sang them. The first found its place readily; the second followed; the third reached the doorway and discovered that blind had nowhere comfortable to go. She left it dangling and compared it to a wet stocking. Vera's smile was permitted. Vivienne had heard the trouble herself. What she disliked was that the easy line sounded hopeful. A lamp left ready might mean the singer expected something from the man across the table. Vivienne had been trying to give her an ending less vulnerable to disappointment. Instead of defending the troublesome syllable further, she asked Vera to sing the first version back.
Vera missed the first note and liked the landing. She also noticed that Vivienne stopped attending to the words before the line was over. There were two plausible explanations, and she asked for the one Vivienne actually meant. Had the singing been poor, or had Vivienne liked hearing her? Vera did not want a musical advantage that obliged Vivienne to approve her lyric. She would accept the awkward ending more readily than an answer polished merely to flatter her.
Vivienne liked hearing her. Especially, she said, when Vera forgot to sound certain. She would ask to hear that voice again even if it carried the wet stocking. But the first line could stay for another reason. In Vera's singing, Vivienne had heard an instruction where she had expected a plea. The singer was requesting a lamp; Vivienne had been making the request answer for her entire future. She could let the woman want something the bishop might refuse, although she admitted she could only just bear it.
Vera supplied his response. That was not what the singer used to sing. The singer knew; she wanted to know whether it was better. His observation settled little, and Vera judged him less useful than the tea. Then she returned to a smaller omission between the women themselves. She had meant Vivienne to join her for the final two words. She had left room. Vivienne had listened with such absorption that Vera had finished alone. The invitation had existed, but its intended companion had not recognised it.
Again, Vivienne said. This time she asked for a nod. Being distracted by the conductor apparently created a need for conducting. She wanted to sing with Vera, and promptly entered early on the stair. She heard that mistake too. Rather than allow Vera to carry her through it, she asked for another beginning and promised to wait. The bishop still owed their singer an opinion. He could remain uncomfortable a little longer. Vivienne preferred getting two words right beside Vera to furnishing him with an impressive speech.
Vera began and gave the cue. They finished the stair together. She liked it, including Vivienne's expression during the wait; conducting such a woman carried the danger of becoming officious. The success did not produce an answer for the invented pair. Vera suggested the bishop ask to hear the changed line before judging it. Their singer had arrived wanting his memory; now he would be asking for her voice. Whether she would sing alone or leave him room remained undecided. Vera could not say which choice she would want from him if she occupied the singer's place.